Shadows and Light
by fadedLily
Summary: A first person POV through the eyes of Chloe. Decided that the Noir section here could use a little more content. Warnings: Yuri, Mature content


Shadows and Light  
  
Genre: Drama, Romance, One-shot Pairing(s): Mireille x Kirika, implied Altena x Chloe, implied Chloe + Kirika Rating: vaguely NC-17 Archive: -anrui-, please ask first  
  
Summary: Chloe thinks on an assassin's life and love, and just how rare it is that people like them receive it. A first person POV vignette.  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own it so leave me alone.  
  
Warnings: There is yuri (female/female love) in this story. If that offends you, please don't read. However, if you feel like flaming.well, flames are wonderful for roasting marshmallows. Oh, and I've only seen the anime up to episode sixteen, so expect me to be taking some liberties with the characters. By the way, first time I've ever tried to seriously write yuri, so forgive me if it's terrible.  
  
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Many things in life are rare, but those things are even rarer for an assassin. I consider myself lucky to have found a measure of happiness in mine. When I found myself living with Altena, at first I can admit I felt used. I was not in control of my own destiny and that frightened me. Then I gradually grew to appreciate the kindness and warmth she gave to me, almost like a mother with her child, and slowly I learned to open myself to her and show her my appreciation in return.  
  
I can understand how Kirika feels. Really, I can. She feels lost and spinning out of control. Alone in a world she barely remembers but knows like the back of her hand the automatic flow of things. The Soldats make her feel used in the same way they used to make me feel. They play games with her and take what little comfort she has found in this world. It is lucky for her she has Mireille.  
  
Mireille appears cold and uncaring, but it is truly just a façade she wears to cover her vulnerability. Inside though, she is still the same little girl who trembled with fear at sight of the Intoccabile's wrath, the same little girl who found her family slaughtered while a light melody played in the background. I know she truly loves Kirika though. I can see it in her eyes when she merely glances at Kirika, though she scolds herself for getting too attached. It's the same look I see from Altena when she gazes at me.  
  
The fierce protectiveness, the anxious worry, the gentle affection, and just a hint, a fragment of possession in that gaze; that is the gaze of love that I have become accustomed to. There is no doubt in my mind that as Kirika stands, gun in hand, her shirt covered with blood, she feels the same in her muted, reserved way. Kirika cares for Mireille deeply; after all, it is the only person she has known as far back as she can remember.  
  
When the two return home, aching from the long battle fought here and the many lives snuffed out of existence I imagine they will carefully check each other's wounds, fingers light and sure, the touch lingering just a little longer than normal. Then maybe, maybe Mireille will brush back Kirika's hair and tame that unruly mop in lieu of chattering away in her carefree tones. I can see the look that Mireille will have in her eyes, the same one Altena reserves for me, when she leans in to quickly capture Kirika's pale lips in a gentle kiss, a reassurance they are alive.  
  
I can see it now. I have seen it. Last night. For some reason there is an insistent flare of jealousy, and I wonder why. Do I really miss Altena that much? I know that I miss her, but why should I begrudge Kirika her partner just because I am not near mine? I long for Altena's gentle caresses on the side of my face and her slender fingers running through my hair. I wish she were here now so that her arms might ground me in this reality and in the same moment be my safe haven from the harsh realities of life. However, Altena sent me here for a reason.  
  
The Soldats sent Noir a particularly trying assignment. Altena ordered me to back them up. When the three of us, Noir and myself, returned from the first part of the job it surprised me when Kirika offered accommodations for the evening. Mireille sent her a look, but both of us seemed to realize that Kirika was going to be insistent about the matter. I accepted with gladness in my heart. For some reason Kirika has always had that effect on me.  
  
Mireille and Kirika's apartment is not much at all. There is the main room, with the computer situated on the pool table that triples as a dining set, desk, and least importantly, pool table. The small kitchen, barely large enough for two people, and its folding card table nearby. The bathroom, of course, is an essential in any modern day home. Then finally behind the dividers lay the room Mireille and Kirika shared, the bed they lay in together night after night.  
  
I really had no idea where Kirika planned on putting me. I would have been fine sleeping on the pool table or the floor, but the younger one insisted on me being somewhere comfortable. The elder assassin looked like she needed some aspirin. Finally it was decided that I would sleep on the small settee that Mireille and Kirika kept in the bedroom. I was given a blanket and a pillow and left to my own devices.  
  
Kirika went to bed rather early, and I followed soon after. It appeared Mireille was staying up to be sure I tried nothing. I found her valiant efforts to protect her partner rather sweet. An hour or two later when I was mostly asleep I finally heard Mireille climb into bed.  
  
It wasn't until much later that my sleep was disturbed by the wet sound of lips smacking together in the dark, a sound I am familiar with. "What if she wakes up?" Kirika's voice, pitched low enough that I had to strain to hear it, startled me, but not enough to give any signs of wakefulness. "She won't. She's out cold," Mireille answered succinctly. There was the sound of indrawn breath and a whispery sigh, and I just had to know what was happening.  
  
Cautiously I peeked out from under the blanket, still playing dead. I could see the vague shape of both Mireille and Kirika on the bed seeming to merge into one another. Both were on their sides facing each other, though Mireille, the taller of the two, was resting at about eye level with Kirika's shoulders. I could see the blond woman's mouth latched onto the skin of the dark haired girl's collarbone, no doubt sucking and leaving a bruise to be found later. Kirika exhaled shakily, the reaction more than enough for me to tell the effect Mireille's ministrations were having on her.  
  
Kirika raised her arms, wrapping them around Mireille's back, one hand stroking through the older woman's long hair. Mireille pulled away and I caught wind of Kirika murmuring her disappointment. Their lips met again, this time with more intensity, and I witnesses Kirika open to her partner's assault, letting the other woman's tongue slip into her mouth. Here I had been thinking Kirika was ignorant to such base humanities as this.  
  
The kiss lasted an eternity as Mireille lightly traced paths down Kirika's cotton-covered sides and back up again, her long nails tracing over Kirika's nipples, making them pebble in a noticeable way. Kirika jerked away gasping, her head thrown back in pleasure. "Mireille," she murmured, the name an incantation, a plea on her tongue. "Shh," the blond haired woman retaliated, her wandering hands slipping under the fabric anyway and giving into the plea.  
  
The tank top was pushed up and tossed somewhere on the foot of the bed, and Kirika stretched gracefully in the night air, reveling in the feeling of being freed from confinement. Mireille took in the sight of her partner displayed before her, a slight twist on her lips indicating amusement. As Kirika resettled against Mireille's side, the blond woman continued her earlier task, nails whispering across the bared flesh of Kirika's breasts.  
  
The girl murmured something quietly which I could not discern, and Mireille seemed not to answer, but only to rub her thumbs over the nubs of the girl's breasts, a sensation that both seemed to take great joy from. The younger one's hands grew bold and unbuttoned Mireille's nightshirt, slipping inside to return the favor.  
  
So they continued pleasuring each other, until their legs intertwined and their hips took on a slow rocking rhythm that pushed things to a feverish height. Both women panted, wanting pleasure, wanting gratification, wanting to be loved and understood, as people who were not assassins, were not Noir, simply could not. Mireille pulled away first, slipping her hands down the back of Kirika's pajama shorts, pushing them down, along with the girl's underwear, in a slow, tender movement. While assisting her partner, Kirika imitated the motions by pushing down Mireille's panties and finally finishing the job of ridding her of her shirt.  
  
Completely naked and free, both women moved in the moonlit night like shadows, writhing together as one entity. Mireille slid down Kirika's body until her face was eye level with the girl's crotch. I could see a tongue darting out to languorously lick Kirika's nether lips, and the girl moaned quietly, giving evidence of her pleasure. The Japanese girl licked her own lips as Mireille went to work, and seemed to contemplate something. Coming to a decision, she tugged her lover's thigh gently. Mireille followed the movement until her own groin was positioned above the other's face. My eyes widened at the strange appeal of their position and I understood how beneficial it would be to both partners. I made a mental note to take this knowledge home with me.  
  
Both women licked and sucked at each other from their odd position, hands never ceasing their explorations. Orgasm was an inevitable thing, and I knew theirs had to be not so far away. I was not surprised when they both cried out and came simultaneously, mouths still locked firmly on one another. I could see their jaws working frantically to swallow the sudden rush of fluid. They parted, flushed and satisfied, and got dressed almost immediately. It was a shame to see such beauty covered up, and I wanted to tell them not to bother but knew it would mean my head if I did.  
  
Again Mireille and Kirika lay side by side, legs tangled together, but otherwise not touching. They were the shadows come to life, two puzzle pieces that fit so no one could tell where one ended and the other began. I hurt just to see the evidence of their inescapable love and devotion, and I wanted to crawl up in bed with them, ask if they would comfort me the way they comforted each other. For I too, am Noir. Does that not count for anything?  
  
I knew it didn't though. Not with them. They were devoted solely to each other, and I fought tears in my eyes. I was lonely and wanted to go home to Altena, crawl in bed with her and have her soothe away my misery in a similar fashion. I wanted to wrap myself around Kirika's backside and whisper the words she so longed to hear. I wanted.I didn't know what I wanted. I gave a mental shake and went back to bed.  
  
Which brings me back to the present, standing her before a river of blood, Kirika and Mireille at my side. The final part of the mission completed, and I was still unsure of what I wanted. "Where will you go?" Kirika whispered to me eventually, her soft voice echoing in the still and empty hallway.  
  
I feigned nonchalance, and said unhesitatingly, "Home." I needed to be back with Altena, wrapped in the warm sanctuary of her embrace. I needed to have her stroke my hair, and kiss me, and tell me how she worried so when I was away. I wanted to kiss her and touch her skin, and reassure myself that nothing had changed. I wanted to lie in her bed and fasten my mouth to her nether lips, and show her just how much I loved her. I wondered if she would be willing to try something new.  
  
Kirika nodded, and Mireille characteristically ignored my existence, except to glower at me forbiddingly. "Tell Altena we appreciate the help," Kirika ordered, though it sounded more like a request. Mireille snorted, declaring loudly that she most certainly did not appreciate the help. I wondered briefly if she knew I'd been awake and had intruded on their private moment.  
  
"I will," I replied and turned away, my cloak flapping about my legs. I walked down the hall, stepping over dead bodies like they were barely there. Only at the end of the hallway, just as I was about to turn, did I look back. Mireille was gently grasping Kirika's free hand, checking the grazing bullet wound she'd gotten. She frowned worriedly, and that look appeared in her eyes, the one I saw distantly reflected in Kirika's. The same look that Altena and I both wore from time to time. Again I thought how incongruously lucky we were to have found something so pure and simple in our line of work. We were bad people. What right did we have to happiness? Still, there it was, as simple and inevitable as the sun slowly peeking above the horizon.  
  
- - FIN - - 


End file.
